Heavy is the Crown
by xheartxfeltx
Summary: "Deny it to a king? Then happy low, lie down! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." What if Hans wasn't the first choice of princes to represent the Southern Isles at the coronation? (Elsa x O.C.) (Kristanna)
1. Chapter 1

**_My wonderful partner-in-crime, AuroraLynne and I have come up with a AU story line for Frozen. Please know that this is written for entertainment purposes and portrayals of all characters reflect only my own opinions and may differ from others. And that is okay!_**

**_If you have time please review and if not thanks for stopping by, I still appreciate you._**

**_I don't own I don't profit._**

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><p>Adler wasn't sure what was more surprising, that he was summoned to the throne room for a political consult or that it was actually the king who awaited him.<p>

The ruler of the Southern Isles was in the twilight of his life, there was no denying that. Slumped in his throne in an undignified manner, his skin sallow and the breath laboring from his body had Adler wondering whether he should call for a physician.

As if sensing his thoughts, his father scowled and gestured him closer. Generally all kingdom affairs were handled by his older brother; a ruler in all but name. Yet, it seemed the legitimate king still had some say in matters as Adler stepped forward and bowed low.

There wasn't a great deal of affection between the King of the Southern Isles and the thirteen princes he sired. His goal was to ensure the kingdom stayed in lawfully chosen family's rule and his sons would agree he had succeeded in this task.

"You're curious as to why I called upon you." His voice was gruff, being left too long without official use had side effects.

"I do as you will, Your Majesty" Adler _was_ curious though – and a bit wary. He was never summoned for any official business, not when there were ten older and more talented brothers to handle matters.

The king made a hacking noise which could have been a scoff or just a bad cough. "Of course you do, you're a _clever_ boy after all."

Before Adler could correct the fact that he was actually, by society's standards, a man, his father continued. "I hear you have some skill with handling the affairs of other nations."

Adler hesitated. "I suppose there is some truth to that, although I've never done so on an official basis."

Another hacking fit met this statement. "Don't think me an idiot boy, you're the only reason the Aelshore Isles haven't declared war on us, or Westergrass for that matter." The way the king sneered, Adler wasn't entirely sure his father was proud of this fact.

It really wasn't all that spectacular of a story, a few of his brothers had inadvertently insulted the queen of Aelshore. Their eldest brother hadn't been able to smooth things over on his own and Adler had suggested they remove one of the Southern Isles' trade routes with the people of Westergrass - Aelshore's enemies - and deal with the isles themselves. And then marry one of the princes to Westergrass's duchess to keep the peace all around.

In the end it had worked and the heir of the Southern Isles had claimed all the credit. Not that Adler had been all that surprised; he was only a spare and the glory would rarely be his.

"I work only to serve my country." _And to save his own neck._ When an inevitable war _did _break out, all the princes would be called upon to lead a military campaign. Adler knew for a fact the chances of him coming back unscathed were remote.

The king chuckled knowingly; when he was younger the prince was convinced that his father could read minds. Into adulthood, he still held that fear.

"Of course you do," The king began, pushing himself forward in the throne. "I have a job for you. One that might find your particular talents useful."

Adler wasn't aware he had any noteworthy talents, other than staying out of everyone's way. "I'm honored, My King. What is this task?"

"The queen of Arendelle comes of age. I need you to go and represent the Southern Isles at the coronation." The prince couldn't keep his eyebrows from shooting up in confusion, prompting his father to explain, "This is an opportunity for us. Arendelle is a rich land shrouded in mystery. The royal family has been isolated for years and trade has not opened up with anyone outside of partners procured before they closed the gates. I want you to convince them that we would be ideal allies."

"This is... unexpected." That was putting it lightly, his father had never really cared about seeking out new allies. Countries generally flocked to them and the vast army they housed.

"Don't be so shocked, not even you can hold off war with other lands forever. I want the money they offer and I want it before I am forced to put down any rebellions."

Adler sighed. _Of course_ he was only thinking of the future wars. They hadn't had a good fight since before he came of age and most of the princes were itching for a chance to prove themselves on the battlefield.

Before the prince could inquire further, the king continued, "There is also the small matter of the deceased king and queen of Arendelle going down in our waters."

Adler scoffed. "That was hardly our fault. We don't control the weather and they should have avoided traveling during hurricane season."

"Our fault or not, we must take measures to ensure we aren't blamed by this new queen. She may be young but she has enough money to rally others behind her, should she feel the need to do so. It's impossible to predict the thinking of a girl locked in a castle for most of her life."

The prince could see his father was beginning to wind down, his labored breathing came in quicker huffs and he shifted as if pained.

"I'm honored, of course." Adler reiterated, ducking his head in hopes of ending the conversation soon. Too much time spent with his father made him feel insignificant.

"Oh, don't bask in your honor too much," The King barked out a harsh laugh. "It was between you and Hans and in this situation I'd rather sacrifice the lamb than let loose the snake."

Adler didn't allow himself to respond; instead he bowed low and assured his father that he would begin preparations immediately before showing himself out. His father's brittle laughter followed him out the doors.

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><p>A booming voice greeted him as he rounded a corner, still trying to shake off the uneasy feeling the meeting had left him. Immediately he recognized his brother's burly form lumbering toward him and grinned. The king had many children, not all of them legitimate. Adler often preferred the company of his bastard brothers over that of his titled ones.<p>

"I see you survived! And how was the heir apparent this fine afternoon?" Geoffrey smirked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. They were thick and bronzed after so many hours spent training with the guards in the steady sun, he towered a good five inches over his brother and no one would have guessed they were related unless told otherwise.

"My meeting actually took place with the king," Adler said. Geoff laughed heartily for a moment, then sobered when he realized his brother was serious.

"You mean to tell me our father managed to get a word in edgewise without the future king butting in to take control?!"

"Seems that way." Adler shrugged brushing past his brother towards the library. He just needed a moment to get himself together before tackling the details of his mission.

"Oh, that is perfect! I would pay to see our brother's face when he realizes you got to speak to the king without his say so." Geoff chuckled and followed Adler. "What did he want with you?"

"He wants me to travel to Arendelle and secure them as allies during the coronation celebrations." His brother whistled appreciatively.

"That's some serious princely workings right there. How impressive," Geoff teased clapping Adler on the back.

"Well don't get too excited. Apparently it was between me and Hans, I just happened to be the lesser of two evils." The prince sighed in relief as they reached the library. He gratefully flung himself on the nearest couch. "Although I'm not inclined to agree, Hans is very good at getting what he wants."

Even with his head buried beneath a throw pillow he couldn't miss his brother's scoff. "Hans is excellent at hurting others to achieve his own personal gain. The kingdom and its well-being mean nothing to him."

Adler had no argument for that. At the summer's swordsmanship tournament Hans had been in second place until his opponent met with a suspicious accident at the docks where the man had worked his whole life. He claimed he lost his arm after it was crushed between two schooners. A beginner's mistake and no one believed it. This hadn't been the first instance where anyone standing in Hans' way was met with misfortune.

Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he gripped the dark auburn strands between his fingers. "What if I make a mess of this? What if I accidentally start a war?"

"Then you'll just have to fix it won't you?" Geoff assured him, "And I suppose you should practice some form of protection before you go. Y'know, just in case they try to kill you on sight."

"Hey! I'll have you know my defense mechanism is flawless! I've been working on it all year."

"Oh, and what is this great tactic guaranteed to save you?"

"I have mastered the art of playing dead," Adler answered with a serious face. He grinned when Geoff started howling with laughter. "It's true! I'm also very close to perfecting the ability of quickly tucking myself into a little ball, a smaller target and not as likely to hit anything of importance."

Geoffrey only shook his head and grinned fondly at his brother. "See? You'll be just fine."

Adler only shrugged and hoped that he was right.

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><p>"You have news for me?" Hans never glanced back at the officer who appeared at his shoulder. His attention was focused on a chess game he currently played against himself.<p>

"Yes, Your Highness. The king has chosen Prince Adler to represent the Southern Isles at the Queen's coronation."

The only evidence Hans gave of his displeasure was the way his fingers tightened over the rook before he made his next move. "The King did? Are you sure?"

"Quite sure Highness. He spoke with your brother personally."

Well that was just frustrating. Hans sighed and removed a knight from the board. He had expected his oldest brother to be the one to assign the task of the Southern Isles representation. aAter all, he handled everything else, and Hans figured it would be so easy to plant the idea of sending his youngest brother. In the end, who would be better suited for some uneventful coronation then the youngest prince?

He hadn't anticipated his father getting involved.

"Has confirmation been sent to Arendelle about which prince will be in attendance?"

"Not yet. The letter will go out this evening."

"Good!" Hans grinned happily. "See that it's intercepted and put out one of our own. I'd rather not watch my idiot brother mess this up for me, yes? "

"As you say, Your Highness."

"And find out which crew will be taking care of Adler's transportation. I think I'll have a little word with them." The soldier bowed and exited as quietly as he had come.

Hans was less than pleased with this new development. Too many pieces on the chess board meant too many moves to look out for and he wanted his attention solely focused on winning over the royal sisters. But it was a minor thing, easily fixed. As long as he moved quickly and avoided suspicion he would entrench himself too deeply into Arendelle's royalty for anyone to be able to stop him.

He grinned to himself as he moved his queen from the board. Soon he would be greater than _all_ of his brothers.

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><p>Elsa never slept under the covers anymore, it became too much of a hassle when she woke up gasping from nightmares, only to find herself trapped within the frozen confines of her bedding. The temperature didn't bother her, but she was never able to thaw the damage she had caused. After waking up from terror filled dreams of attacking mobs as the icy husk of her sister looked on, she'd rather just avoid the extra panic of frozen blankets weighing her down.<p>

The closer Coronation Day approached, the less sleep she was able to force upon herself. This night was hardly any different as she gazed upon the harbor from her window, ignoring the streaks of ice that surrounded her like a ghastly halo.

"Don't let them in, don't let them in," she repeated to herself in a broken mantra. It was too soon; she wasn't ready. There had to be more time!

But there wasn't, and Elsa was facing the looming prospect of allowing her people in for the first time in thirteen years. And she was no closer to controlling her powers now than when she was a child. Something would go wrong, someone would get hurt. And all because she was too weak to stop herself.

In the reflection of the glass she could see herself, fragile and afraid.

What was she going to do?


	2. Chapter 2

_**Again I would love it if you reviewed but I understand if you don't I'm just really glad people are reading the story.**_

_**I don't own I don't profit.**_

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><p>"Well I'll be! Our benevolent prince has roused himself at a decent hour." Geoff yelled out grinning broadly as he clapped a hand on his brothers shoulder. Adler winced at the noise and stumbled away nearly colliding with a fisherman. It was truly amazing the amount of activity that took place on the docks when the rest of the world seemed to be sleeping.<p>

"This is not a decent hour." Adler mumbled, glaring under his bangs, "This is the hour where Satan reigns."

Geoff laughed – loud and boisterous – causing many to shoot irritated glances their way. "Well at least you'll be awake to watch the sun rise, it must have been many years since you've seen your last."

"Yes many, and yet I seem to recall it with perfect detail, and therefore, do not need another demonstration." The prince shot back drawing his coat tighter to himself. It was cold on the docks. A sliver of pale green could barely be seen over the horizon hinting at the oncoming daybreak and Adler was not in a friendly mood.

He hated sailing, everything about it; from the sting of salt to the violent rocking motion of the boat. It made him ill and uncomfortable and he detested every minute he spent at sea. Ironic for a prince whose family ruled over a set of isles where the only reliable mode of transportation was sailing.

The fact that his trip had been set back by many days due to a scheduling interference from his captain did not help matters. They would be departing with barely enough time to arrive on schedule – barring any mishaps on the voyage. _And of course_, Adler thought moving to avoid a spilled barrel of fish, _there are always mishaps when it comes to my luck._

Geoffrey was practically skipping with glee beside him. It wasn't very often that a kings bastard was allowed to accompany on a political mission, but Adler had insisted. If he was being forced to go then he was bringing someone along to cheer him along when he inevitably failed.

They had nearly reached their ship when Geoff visibly stiffened beside him. Adler lacked the height of his brother and didn't realize Hans was approaching them until he was well within speaking distance. Even strolling over to them calmly, a small smile on his face as if he hadn't a care in the world, put Adler on edge. There was an unsettling aura about his youngest brother.

"Well," Hans drawled, his voice smooth and pleasant despite the malicious smirk on his face, "Isn't this a surprise?"

Geoffrey scoffed, "Hardly, you knew we were departing today." Hans only shrugged lazily. He began circling behind his brothers and Adler was reminded of a vulture.

"What are you doing here?" he sighed. He was really in no mood to verbally spar and very rarely won these battles anyway. Hans grinned as if he knew how uncomfortable he was making them.

"You're not the only one departing today." He gestured to a nearby ship where the sailors were busy coaxing Han's prized war stallion on board. The beast was obviously not thrilled with this development, it flanks trembled and he stubbornly stood his ground refusing to inch forward without plenty of shoving.

Geoff laughed when the horse butted a sailor in the chest causing the man to nearly stumble back into the water. Hans turned and glared.

"And I see you're bringing your charity case along." Adler fumed at the comment and glanced at Geoffrey, worried that his brother might do something rash.

"I am not a charity case." Geoff growled dangerously pushing his face close to Hans. To his credit the young prince never even flinched. "I am your brother."

"We share a father," Hans spoke evenly, "That doesn't make us brothers."

Adler stepped between the pair, hoping to diffuse the tension before it came to blows. "Where are you heading?"

"Oh, just securing a bit of insurance should your mission to win over Arendelle fail." He grinned over at his older brother. "And the way I've been rushed out makes me think there isn't very much confidence in your abilities."

Adler scoffed, "The king himself charged me with this task."

"What a coincidence! Father charged me with mine as well." That stung. If the king had dedicated Hans to another similar venture than he must not truly believe Adler could handle this.

"I-I won't fail." Adler hesitated. He didn't feel very confident now and it must have shown by the way Hans grin widened.

"Of course you won't!" Geoff maneuvered himself to block Hans out before clasping Adler by the shoulders in a reassuring gesture. "You'll do just fine."

"I'm sure he will, after all he's proven himself many times before." Hans smirked as he circled around Geoffrey's tall frame. Adler flushed in response to his brothers facetious remark. The obvious insult rang with truth. He could lay claim to being the brains behind certain peace treaties, but in a kingdom befitted for war that was not honor- that was taking the easy way out.

Adler could not fight, he could not charm his way into any girls chambers like some of his brothers, he could not lead men to their willing deaths. Hans was right. Adler didn't make much of a prince worthy of the Southern Isles.

"I...I-uh..." He stuttered and ducked his head as the insecurity seeped into his thoughts. Hazily he was aware of Geoff whirling on Hans, fist raised high and his younger brother standing there grinning calmly.

Before more words – or blows – could be exchanged a portly gentlemen came rushing in. "My princes!" He exclaimed notably skipping his gaze over Geoff. "It is an honor to be at your call for the duration of your trip!"

"Um...great thanks. Who are you?" The newcomer smiled as if Adler had asked something so ridiculous and Hans chuckled quietly rolling his eyes as he turned away.

"I'm your captain, of course." He beamed as if this news was the best he had delivered in weeks.

"What happened to our other captain?" Geoff asked causing the man to finally acknowledge his existence. Geoff had handled getting the ship and its crew sorted while Adler had managed the other details so he had no knowledge of any difference in leadership.

This new one, however, was evidently uncomfortable with the question, "He took ill suddenly, unable to perform his duties. Unfortunate for him. However we must press on, so I am the replacement. Captain Lawrence Hugo at your command"

He bowed low again and gestured to the ship behind them. "If you are ready we should be on our way! A great deal of distance to cover in such a short time. Of course it shan't be a problem, they don't call me the best for nothing!" Hugo continued to ramble and Adler tuned him out.

Hans started walking to his own ship, turning his head briefly to call out. "Goodbye brother. Try not to mess this up, yes?" And he was gone.

Adler chewed on the inside of his cheek, now that Hans had moved on he had a million verbal shots to fire back. But as usual, a face to face confrontation only left him a stuttering mess. With a heavy sigh he tugged a frustrated hand through his hair and whirled on Hugo, who was _still_ talking, Geoff close behind.

"Shall we be off?" He asked in a clipped tone, effectively cutting the captain off mid-sentence. "Let's get this over with."

Geoffrey took the lead up the ramp. His shoulders were slumped – the only evidence he would show that their confrontation with Hans had affected him more than he wanted everyone to believe.

"Geoff..." Adler tried to reach his brother but the man in question only glimpsed behind for a moment, subtly shaking his head, before disappearing onto the ship.

"Are... are we all set m'lord?" Hugo looked between the two of them, more interested than concerned.

"Yes, let's set out." Adler sighed. _Before I make this any worse._

He followed the captain up the ramp and inspected his surroundings with a disinterested eye. Near the ships mast a small contingency of sailors stood around. Adler noticed they kept shooting him unreadable glances without actually meeting his eyes.

Only one of them locked gazes with the prince, and for a moment Adler thought he saw regret flash in his eyes. But just as quickly the sailor looked away grabbing a rope and tending to his duties.

The prince didn't have time to process this strange incident before Hugo gestured excitedly to the ladder which would lead them to the belly of the ship.

"Your quarters are just this way, your highness. I'm sure you'll be pleased, no expense was spared!" He disappeared down the steps and Adler took one last look around hoping to catch the curious sailor, before following the captain.

It didn't take long for his eyes to adjust to the dim surroundings. The first thing he noticed was Geoff slumped against a wall, blood trickling down his cheek. A sickly looking bruise was already developing on his temple. Before he could process the implications, a hatch slammed behind him. Adler looked back and saw the cabin boy. The lad trembled and swallowed frequently as if fighting back nausea; he tried to hold a rolling pin as far away as he could manage.

"This one tried to fight back," Hugo snarled, drawing the Prince's gaze back to the real threat. The captain swung a wicked looking cudgel, blood already staining the end onto his shoulder, kicking at his brothers foot as he passed. Geoff groaned and Adler let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He was alive – for now. "I suggest you come quietly or this could get ugly."

"I'm a prince of the Southern Isles! There will be repercussions if you hurt me." Adler hoped that crack in his voice wasn't noticed.

"True," Hugo smirked, "But there isn't quite as much concern for your friend here." He dropped the Cudgel on Geoff's stomach. This time he made no sound, only a heavy twitch before he slipped lower to the ground.

"Leave my brother alone!" Adler tried to move forward but the captain held his weapon against Geoff's chest threateningly.

"If you come quietly, I see no reason to continue such violence. But if not..." He slid a thumb against his own neck, mimicking a slice across the throat "I'm afraid poor Geoffrey here won't be waking up."

"Fine! Just... leave him alone, please!" Adler begged, falling to his knees. Dimly he became aware of shafts of light glittering against the opposite wall. The sun must have finished rising, would anyone even come looking for them?

"That's a good lad." Hugo gestured to a door leading to, what he assumed, would be their quarters for the duration of the trip. "Off you go, and no funny business either."

His tone was threatening enough, Adler immediately stood and complied. He wouldn't have been able to fight back even if Geoff's life wasn't at stake. So instead he tried to remain calm. When action was off the table gathering facts was always a best second option.

"What do you plan to do with us?" His voice quivered. _How awe-inspiring_ he thought to himself.

"The initial instructions were to get you out of the way but my benefactor never did specify your fate, so I guess it really depends on what sort of mood I'm in." He chuckled as if he'd made some clever joke. "But for now pawning you off to the highest bidder suits me just fine."

"Wait... someone paid you to do this!? But..._why_?" He was shocked, of all his brothers he ranked among the lowest. Hugo only shrugged then gestured to the bleak room again.

"I wasn't privy to that information. I got paid, I did my job. Now move." He followed this statement by shoving Adler into the room himself. The prince stumbled to the floor; he groaned and lifted himself up to glance back at Geoff. The cabin boy held a rag against his brothers face. The Captain whirled around preparing to close the door behind him.

"Wait! What about my brother?!" Adler cried out. What if his injury was worse than he initially suspected? What if he died?

Hugo looked entirely unconcerned, "We'll keep you two separated just in case your _brother_ needs some convincing of his own to behave when he wakes up." He glanced back at the man in question. "_If_ he wakes up."

The door wasn't slammed but Adler still recoiled when he heard the latch slide into place. He could hear the muffled yells of Hugo berating the cabin boy for tending to Geoff.

The ship suddenly lurched forward causing Adler's head fell back against the edge of the bed but he couldn't bring himself to care. Despair pressed in until it filled his mind, thick and heavy. They were on their way although the destination was a mystery.

Hot tears slipped from his eyes, dripping into the shell of his ear. He was never going to see his home again, he was going to spend the rest of his life as a prisoner. _Geoff was going to die._

And it was all his fault, he should never have invited him just so he wouldn't feel so lonely on this mission. His brother could be at home right now enjoying his time in the barracks joking with the other guards.

But Adler was selfish and he wanted his brother because he was too cowardly to travel to another nation without someone there to hold his hand. Below him the rocking of the boat was picking up; he could feel his stomach begin to protest the movements. Adler latched on to the nausea so he wouldn't have to deal with the guilt.

_Breathe in and out, _he told himself, matching inhales and exhales to the ships movements.

Shakily he continued to breathe hoping to use the sickness as an excuse to banish the image of his brother lying motionless and injured away from his mind. It didn't work. Soon his mantra to breathe in and out morphed into another phrase entirely.

"All my fault," he whispered. "_All my fault_."

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><p>Elsa flinched as the seamstress grabbed her arm, mumbling measurements to herself while she wrapped a cord around the princesses wrist. The woman had been hired specifically to work on the coronation dresses. "The best in all the land!" Gerda had claimed. "No expense should be spared for our lovely new queens day of honor!"<p>

Elsa did not want a day of honor. She did not want the glitz and glamor or the crowds; the foreign guests who would be watching her at every moment. She did not want the crown.

But it would be hers and nothing would change that, so obediently she twisted and turned while this stranger poked and prodded. The most human contact Elsa had experienced in years.

In the corner her sister sat happily chatting away with one of the servants; an older woman, Elsa couldn't remember her name, but Anna had already memorized her whole life story.

She hadn't anticipated her sister being there when she arrived, but there she sat beaming with excitement. Elsa did as was expected of her, nodded curtly at Anna and turned away before the girl could try to futilely engage her in conversation. It didn't take long for her to realize that Anna had already been fitted. She was just waiting around for Elsa, to spend time with her big sister.

Guilt and shame at this realization lodged itself in her throat as she went to stand on the platform as instructed, pretending she couldn't see the way Anna's face fell as she turned away.

"Alright Your Majesty, I'll need you to remove the gloves so we can fit you for a new pair." The seamstress informed her. Elsa practically shrank back.

"I-I don't think that's necessary." She tried to be authoritative but it came out sounding like a child's demands.

The seamstress sighed, placing her hands firmly on her hips. "Majesty, you hired me to do a job and I intend to do it." She had more to say

everyone could see, but before she could get the words out Gerda jumped in.

"Perhaps you could compare measurements to a pair of her majesties finest gloves? That way she can keep hers and you will have another to use for your own purposes, is that acceptable?" No one spoke against it so Gerda left the room in search of an additional pair.

Mumbling under her breath, the seamstress went back to her work, holding the cord against Elsa's shoulders ignoring the way the girl shivered and tried to move away from her touch. "I'm thinking an off the shoulder look, one to match your sisters dress."

Elsa reeled back, "What?" The seamstress impatiently gestured to a sheaf of papers on the desk closest to them. A design had already been sketched out of a dress that showed off a great deal of skin, no doubt with Anna's measurements already accounted for. It would look lovely on her sister.

Her sister who couldn't hurt others simply by touching them.

"No, I don't want it like that." From the corner of her eye she watched Anna's face fall. The seamstress scoffed, raising herself to full height in preparation of arguing with the future queen.

Anna intervened, "We don't have to match Elsa, I can change my design if you want." Her sisters voice was small and dejected.

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut; as if that act alone could fight back the overwhelming guilt and frustration. _Don't feel,_ she coached herself.

Hesitantly she opened them again and glanced around the room. Anna looked downtrodden next to the older servant who sat glaring as hard as she could get away with when angry with a future queen. The seamstress merely turned away, rolling her eyes but it was enough to provoke Elsa's anger.

"Princess Anna will keep her dress the way it is. I _will_ have a different design and that is final" She could feel the frost staring to form beneath her gloves and prayed to whoever would listen that ice wasn't stretching from beneath her feet.

She could feel the magic spreading and panicked. Everyone was staring at her now, watching with judgment in their eyes. She had to get out of here.

The door opened suddenly, shocking all of them. Gerda strolled in and immediately noticed the tension pervading the room a pair of gloves hung limp from her hand. "Is-is something wrong your highness?"

Elsa couldn't answer, what would she say? Her secrets were her own burden to bear and uttering even a single concern would have the staff watching her every move like hawks. Instead she fled through the open door.

As she turned into the hall she could hear the seamstress voice a question she could assume everyone else was thinking. "This girl is to be our queen?"

"Yes, she is." Another voice responded confidently, Elsa thought it could have been Anna but she was getting to far to judge properly. "And she'll be a great queen."

_A great queen indeed_, Elsa thought to herself, watching a faint trail of ice glimmer beneath her feet as she retreated into one of the empty rooms to gather her bearings. _Long may she reign._

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><p>No one brought up dress fittings to Elsa again, she assumed they would simply use one of the gowns already made. After all no one had ever seen her wear them, how would the people know if they weren't specifically created for the coronation. Frankly Elsa couldn't bring herself to care. Focusing instead on the guest list which grew vastly each day – uncomfortably so.<p>

Still, a few days before the day of festivities arrived, Gerda presented the princess with a mannequin adorned with a new dress, lovelier than most of the gowns Elsa already owned.

"I convinced the seamstress to allow you a bit more fabric, I think she might have taken the suggestion too far." Gerda was referring to the long sleeves and high neck line. Every inch of her would be covered save her face.

"It's lovely, exactly what I would have chosen for myself." Elsa gifted her maid with a tentative smile. The seamstress most likely assumed that she would be punishing the future queen by dressing her in heavy fabric that concealed. If she were a normal girl she probably would have felt smothered under the weight of all that material.

But she was not a normal girl and she had grown used to suffocation.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Oh hey ya'll. Let me just mosey on in here and leave this update as an apology for taking such a LONG break. I'm kind of hoping that not everyone gave up on this little guy. Again I would love it if you would review.  
><strong>_

_**Anyway, I don't own and I don't profit.**_

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><p>Geoff became fuzzily aware of a dull throb fluctuating along his torso. Hesitantly he opened his eyes but the sunlight seared sharp stakes of pain against the back of his eyelids. He groaned and shifted only to gasp at the sudden agony movement invoked. He focused on self diagnosing to distract himself.<p>

_A few broken ribs for sure_, he thought, _and probably some heavy bruising along stomach. _

The pain was beginning to lessen to a more tolerable level, though his head still felt as if someone had bludgeoned him something good. _Which is probably exactly what happened,_ he surmised as he rolled cautiously to his back. There was another lurch of pain and his breathing quickened as he fought off the nausea.

Distantly the missing memories began to reconnect. He remembered storming down the stairs, angry that Hans had gotten the better of them - again - when he'd been smacked in the back of the head. Truthfully it hadn't been all that hard a hit and the lad who'd landed it didn't seem interested in finishing the work if the way he jumped back and trembled was any indicator.

He was prepared to scold the boy and send him on his way, probably a mistake anyway, that rolling pin was thicker than the boys arms but before he could even draw the breath required to begin a proper berating, another voice had joined in.

"I thought I told you to make quick work of it! The prince is coming!" Captain Hugo hissed through clenched teeth while coming down the stairs. Geoff turned and gaped at him, still confused as to what was happening. With a well placed kick, Hugo connected right in the chest. The captains elevated advantage combined with Geoff's shock created a hit was enough to send him flying across the room.

He hadn't had enough time to recover before Hugo was at his side a cudgel already raised and prepared to strike. That was the last thing he remembered seeing before it all went dark. Though currently the injuries seemed far more extensive than they had before he'd been clobbered, probably caused by a few more hits after he'd lost consciousness.

Now that he had a vague recollection of what had happened, Geoff began to feel his blood boil. He was angry, at the captain for betraying them. At his father - the king - for being such a land grabbing warmonger that he'd blown through the royal coffers and now relied on his unprepared son to secure them an important money alliance. And he was furious at Hans; he wasn't sure why but he just _knew_ Hans had something to do with this.

Most of all he was angry at himself. He'd spent years training to be a soldier because that is all a royal born bastard could ever aspire to be, and still with all that training - and for all his bravado - he was caught off guard and had failed to act when it was most important.

If his head wasn't slowly killing him already he'd have banged it against the floor boards in frustration.

They were stuck on this floating prison; he had no idea where they were going, where they were _now_, or even where his brother was being kept. With a sickening lurch he realized that he was alone which meant his brother may very well be locked away somewhere, suffering from his own injuries.

Or he could be dead and tossed over to the depths by now.

With a burst of energy Geoff heaved himself upright and forced his eyes open, trying his best to ignore the onslaught of pain, but still he faltered and began to tip to the side. He knew that once he fell he wasn't getting up again; that was a last ditch attempt and a poorly executed one at that.

He muttered a few choice curses and readied himself for a troublesome landing before a small set of arms latched around his torso and tried to steady Geoff. The pain that shot through his side as the assisting hands dug into his broken ribs did more to help than the actual arms themselves. He flinched away and landed against the wall where he was able to slide down and lean back without too much added damage.

He took a few extra moments to catch his breathe and wait for the black spots to finish swimming across his vision. Once he had regained some semblance of control, he glanced over to inspect his "rescuer." A young cabin boy was not what Geoff had expected to see and suddenly he was glad he hadn't fallen to the side when the lad had tried to help. He'd have crushed the child into nothing more than skin and splintered bones judging from how malnourished the boy was.

When he realized that Geoff's attention was focused on him, the cabin boy scuttled back until he was partially concealed behind one of the many barrels.

Geoff tried not to laugh. Not to preserve the boys dignity but because it would have hurt too much. Instead he flashed a grin in the lads direction and hoped it contained more friendliness and less grimace but he suspected he was wrong. Still the child tentatively smiled back, tight lipped and shifting eyes, but a smile none the less.

"I'm Geoff," he offered in hopes that the child would come out, maybe even explain a few things. "What's your name?"

He hadn't really expected an answer and was hardly surprised when the boy ducked completely behind the barrel. However, instead of scampering away like he'd anticipated, the boy returned with a bowl and a meager piece of bread.

"You have to eat it now," his little voice was hard to hear over the waves lapping at the side of the ship, "I'm not supposed to be helping you."

Geoff nodded and reached for the proffered meal, he didn't have the heart to tell him that he was in no mood to eat, not when his little face looked so openly eager at the prospect of helping. The broth was cold and flavorless and the bread was tough, but he swallowed it down as if it was the best he'd had in his lifetime.

"What's your name?" He tried again, wiping his lips clean with the edge of his sleeve. His high born brothers would have shuddered at that; all except Adler that is. Shaking his head slightly he focused on the child again, anything to remove the grieving thoughts from his mind, no use in getting all upset now if he didn't have the facts.

The boy looked away briefly then glanced back, for a moment Geoff thought he had gotten through to his young comrade.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to" He whispered before fleeing. Geoff ducked his head and felt a little pity for the child. He knew that the apology was intended to smooth over the wrongdoing of the attempted rolling pin attack. With a heavy groan he leaned his full weight against the wood paneling behind him.

He was tired, in pain, and desperately clueless - but despite all of that he still needed to find the strength to climb to his feet and begin the search for his brother.

And after that they could… well, maybe if he found a weapon his injuries would stop hurting long enough to… or perhaps they should just steal a life boat, with just the two of them maybe they'd…

All of these plans were stupid. Adler was the schemer, he could think of anything if he put his mind to it - and stopped doubting himself long enough to believe in his own skill. But Adler was not here and it was up to Geoff to save him. Trouble was there was little chance of that happening as long as he was too weak to get to his feet and start looking.

He'd just began a mental pep talk when the hatch leading to the deck opened. Quiet footsteps descended and Geoff pretended to be unconscious, maybe whoever it was would come close enough for Geoff to strike, or at least flop over and _maybe_ trip the new arrival in the process.

Instead movement ceased a few feet away and Geoff fought the temptation to open his eyes the barest hint. He felt a gaze upon his face and knew he was being watched; no need to give any clues.

"I know you're awake," A voice called out, "The cabin boy already informed me."

Well now that there wasn't any point to this act, Geoff tilted his to the side, inspecting this new presence as if he hadn't a care in the world. Inside he was secretly praying the stranger would come closer so he could make a move.

"Oh, don't be like that, I was hoping we could be friends," The man seemed about Geoff's age and he had an easy grin, definitely the kind of male young ladies would bat their eyelashes at.

"Doubt that," Geoff responded with a glare, "As you can see, I haven't had a very welcoming stay aboard your vessel."

"Yeah, funny enough we've all been a little bit unsatisfied with our time served on board." The young man glanced over his shoulder quickly before turning his attention back and continued in a whisper, "Been thinking we might just want to do something about it."

He now had Geoff's full attention albeit with a healthy helping of skepticism. "You're planning a mutiny?"

The other man nodded and fidgeted with his fingers. "Hugo isn't our captain. The original crew, or whats left of us anyway, want nothing to do with that monster." He spat, as he glared to the side.

"And we definitely aren't pirates, or anything of the sort. You hired us to transport the prince and that's what we had planned. Until few nights back when Hugo stormed the ship, had himself an impressive handful of hired steel too. Our captain was gutted in front of us, he said he'd do the same to anyone who talked - but if we were useful we'd still get paid. So of course we kept our mouths shut. But the money came and we haven't seen so much as a flash of that coin."

He glanced at Geoff as if to gauge whether he should continue, "And we're not only angry about not getting paid. Most of us have family thats been sold off to slavers. We know what will happen if the prince ends up in foreign hands."

He glanced up and shrugged with a tentative smile. "Although some are hoping your Da might be willing to reward his sons rescuers."

Geoff fought off a chuckle, "his da" didn't care one piss about him, or Adler for that matter - but he wasn't about to let that out. And if the sailors were hoping to cash in on a rescue that must mean that his brother was alive!

"And now that you've all paid heed to your conscience, you want to… what? Fight back?" The sly grin spreading across the young man's face was Geoff's answer.

"Aye, with your help we might be able to do it too."

"I don't know if you've noticed," he gestured to the wound on his head and pointed to his broken ribs, "But I'm in a bit of poor repair. I'm afraid I won't be of much help to anyone."

"Ah, but you are exactly in the condition we need you in." His grin grew to light up his face with excitement, "How would you feel about working as bait? I promise it will make you and Hugo even, an ambush for an ambush."

Geoff liked that idea, he liked it a lot. "You have to promise that the prince will survive, that he'll be alright."

"He's locked up, we'd have to take out Hugo anyway to get the keys. So, sure, we'll keep the prince out of harms way." He held out a grimy callused hand, weathered from years of work despite his young appearance. "I'm Gunnar."

"Geoff," he returned, grasping the offered hand in his own with a firm shake.

"Well then, my new friend. Let's get to work."

* * *

><p>The plan had seemed solid enough when first presented, but now as he lay sprawled halfway across the deck - with the top few stairs digging painfully into his tender side - Geoff was beginning to harbor doubts.<p>

"Hugo isn't a stupid man and he's _always_ suspicious" Gunnar explained as he watched Geoff poke and prod the wound on his head until the blood began to drip down his face once more, "So simply planting any other sailor won't make him curious enough to investigate. But if one of his prized captives is caught trying to escape, that'll make him mad enough to get him off his guard - long enough to strike!" He finished by pounding a fist into his palm for emphasis.

The idea had been to fake an escape attempt gone wrong. They'd position Geoff at the top of the stairs - complete with fresh, open wounds - and Gunnar would be standing over him with, ironically enough, the rolling pin.

Their story would be that the cabin boy had shouted a warning to the crew before being over taken by the prisoner, but with such a small voice the only one who would have heard him was Gunnar who had come running to the rescue. It was a shaky tale and Geoff wasn't sure it would hold but Gunnar seemed pretty convinced.

The rest of the crew would be waiting, with any manner of weapons they could dig up, for the signal - the sign being Hugo's unconscious body. They'd then engage the mercenaries and regain control of the ship.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to peg your men against hired muscle."

"Eh, they'll be alright. You should see some of these mercenaries. I'm not sure they'd ever been on a seafaring vessel before this job. The way they turn green for sure lifts my spirits." Gunnar chuckled at the memory. "They won't be any good on the waters and there are more of us than there are of them."

This seemed flippantly optimistic to Geoff but he couldn't very well argue if he didn't have a better plan.

"It'll be fine! You'll see, by this time tomorrow we'll be making our way home" Gunnar crooked the side of his mouth before looping an arm around Geoff's torso, taking care to avoid agitating any injuries.

"Well, that certainly puts my mind at ease." He joked as they'd slowly made their way to the staircase.

Geoff had been required to climb the last few steps on his own where Gunnar had awaited him, rolling pin at the ready. He'd assumed that it would have all been faked and the reactions a performance but instead his new "friend" had rapped him on the head, hard enough for his vision to tunnel toward unconsciousness, and Geoff fell heavy against the floorboards.

He groaned at the sudden onslaught of noise assaulting his senses. Gunnar was shouting convincingly and a few others joined in the clamor. Those already on deck began to shuffle closer eager for a sight. But a few seconds passed and their was no hint of Hugo making an appearance despite a couple of men running off to alert him.

Geoff also felt his stomach drop when his eyesight began to clear enough to identify most of the hired men. None of them looked like they were suffering from seasickness, a bit on the pale side yes, but not ailing nearly as much as he'd like.

He made a convincing attempt at getting up, taking the opportunity to glance over at Gunnar. Judging by the concern in his eyes, this wasn't going as well as he'd hoped. A few crew members were beginning to look worried as well. Gunnar saw Geoff struggling and lifted his pin back to strike him again, when a voice shouted out, halting the attempt.

"What in the name of all the Gods _is going on here!_?" Hugo roared at the crowd and many of them slid back. His eyes landed on Geoff, who had managed to lift himself to his knees. A malicious glint lit up his eyes.

"Who allowed this prisoner to wake up?" The tone was calm and he kept his eyes locked with Geoff's, but many of the crew flinched as if he were still shouting. "I won't ask again," he whirled around and began shoving himself into a few faces, "Who let this man wake up?!" He demanded with a hiss.

"Ah, sir, he uh… he was trying to escape so I-" Gunner tried to grab the captains attention again. He needed him closer if he was to land his own strike. But he'd clearly lost his nerve and Geoff knew that this was quickly becoming a losing situation.

"I did not ask about his escape. I can _see_ that he was making an attempt. I asked who let him climb his way back to the living world - and long enough to acquire enough energy to make a break for it I might add - without putting a stop to it?" He eyed Gunner again and stepped back, further away from where they wanted him to be.

Gunner took a step forward but it didn't clear enough distance to bring him within striking range. "Sir, I heard the cabin boy shouting for help and I came running-"

"Oh yes, the cabin boy. I daresay I'd like to have a word with him." His eyes scanned the crowd and picked out a lean little face peaking from behind a larger body. A body unfortunately, that belonged to one of the hired swords. With a nod from Hugo the boy was snatched up. Kicking and screaming he squirmed against the grip holding him but it was of no use.

Geoff tried to surge to his feet as many of the crew pressed forward, but it was too late; the lad already had a knife pressed to his throat. With a jolt he realized that Hugo had anticipated this all along. He knew very well that a boy of that size would have never been able to keep Geoff under. Hugo had planned on his waking, and subsequently the "attempted escape."

He probably knew about the mutiny all along, he had simply allowed it. For what? The sheer amusement? He and Hans certainly made quite a pair.

"Now listen here you useless piles of shit! I am the one whose-" Hugo never had the opportunity to finish his speech. While he was busy making sure his message was quite clear to every one on board, no one was at their assigned posts. No one saw the land mass coming straight toward them, and no one could call for a brace as the ship slid dangerously against the sharp rocks jutting from the ocean.

With a sudden lurch, anything that wasn't bolted down went flying. Only a couple of the men sailed overboard and directly into the dangerous waters. Everyone else grabbed on to anything that would hold them as they attempted to regain their footing. Though the only real injuries sustained were from those who had been launched, everyone still maintained white knuckled grips on their tethers.

Geoff had already been close to the deck when the ship hit so he had only slid forward a few feet before he had grabbed the handrail post. The jolt had stretched his stomach uncomfortably and his ribs were crying out in protest.

He blinked hard for a moment willing away the black spots in his vision. A movement to his left caught his attention and he locked eyes with Gunner who grinned when he noticed he was being watched. Geoff grinned back until he realized there was a new sound coming from below. Fair but recognizable; running water.

Gunner heard it at the same time. "She's taking on water! We have to abandon ship!"

This was the shock the crew needed to get motivated. Immediately the men clamored to their feet rushing to the boats. A few had even begun lowering ropes over the sides.

"What are they doing?" He shouted to Gunner as the man passed him with a rope of his own.

"Climbing down, the shore is close enough that you could swim there if you're quick enough. You can't jump because the rocks are well hidden, but if you lower yourself all careful like, you'll make it just fine."

"Why the rush though?" Geoff focused his attention to the lower level, "The water is barely coming in."

"It'll pick up soon enough," Gunner assured as he tied off his rope, "And you do not want to be caught anywhere near her when she does, the water will suck you under just the same as the ship." Geoff glanced at the men, mostly mercenaries, still working on the boats. He could see that many of those who had simply climbed down were already well on their way to the shore.

With a wince he realized that the other man was right; he needed to find Adler and get out of here.

"You coming or what?" Gunner was already climbing over the deck wall, leaning back to allow gravity to ease him down.

"No," Geoff responded, "I need to get my brother." He turned and made his way to the stairs as rapidly as his battered body would allow him but was stopped when Gunner cut him off.

"Are you out of your mind?! We have to go! The water is coming in quicker now!" He was right of course, the rushing noise was turning into a roar.

"I don't care, I need to find him." Geoff continued on, he nearly made it to the bottom when he was met with the icy ocean.

"You don't even have a key!" His companion tried to reason as he followed after. Geoff had no response to that, they were running out of time and he couldn't remember where Hugo had landed with all the tumbling in scattered directions.

With a frustrated growl he hobbled further into the water, the tiny waves now lapped at his knees. He'd intended to pick a locked door and begin ramming despite his sad state.

"Hey hero," Gunner gestured to a door opposite the direction he'd been headed. "Your brothers in this one. And would you look at that!" The young man grinned as he dove forward, digging for a moment before revealing his prize - a prybar! "The Gods favor you my friend."

They shared a grin and Gunner turned to break the lock but a frown slipped his features.

""What is it? We've got to move!" Geoff was getting impatient.

"The waters coming from beneath the door." His voice was grave.

"So? Just break it down and we'll get out of here!"

"If the waters coming from this room that means this is where we were hit." He glanced over at Geoff and saw the horror that painted his features. With a heavy sigh he raised the prybar, preparing to strike against the lock.

"Alright fine. Look, I'm not sure if your brother is still alive but that room is going to be filled a lot higher, as soon as we get the door open it's going to come spilling out and then things get really dicey."

He fixed Geoff with a serious face, "You have a split second to grab the prince and make it up the stairs. If we don't leave the ship soon I'm afraid we won't be making it off at all."

Geoff nodded and turned toward the door, his ribs were already shrieking at him and his head pounded to the beat of his heart but he mentally prepared himself. Pain or no - he was getting his brother out of here.

"Ready?" Gunner shouted, his question was met with another silent nod. "Here we go!" And he slammed the bar into the lock.

* * *

><p>Adler had tried keeping track of the passing time, but he'd lost count of how many minutes slipped by and without the aide of the sun the whole venture was pointless. Instead he slept, and then he began to recite memorized lectures and equations. And when he ran out of that he began to recount his family tree, he'd start as far back as he could and try to make it back to his own branch without missing too many names.<p>

In his own version of the Southern Isle royal legacy he always added Geoff as a full blooded brother, and sometimes he'd even bump Hans back to bastard status. It was the little things that made him happy in the bleak darkness that loomed around him.

He'd just began humming songs to himself when he heard a sudden chorus of shouting. Hope surged in his chest as he navigated himself into a standing position. Those weren't happy shouts, someone was causing trouble.

And if he were a betting man, he'd lay his money on Geoffrey being that cause.

Cautiously he made his way over to the door. Pressing an ear against the keyhole, he concentrated his efforts on listening to the commotion. It had only lasted a minute before the noise fell away. Still Adler remained where he was, secretly flaming his optimism even though he knew that it was an injured Geoff against the entire crew.

Still he had faith in his brother, if Geoff could make it off the ship at the very least, he could get back to the Southern Isles and inform someone that their prince had been captured. He tried not to focus on the doubt - there would be little chance his father or brothers would come after him, it was a far better fate to have him "die at sea" than to bring their coward home.

It was then, with his body pressed against the side door; a terrible blast boomed through the quarters. He had the vague sense of flying for a split second then reality came crashing in as wooden shrapnel collided with his body. It took a moment for his brain to register the pain, he was aware that the skin along his jaw and neck seemed to be tugging in two separate directions. And there was the curious matter of splintered debris, just about the size of his hand, lodged into his side.

Then a million tiny flames fanned out and he cried aloud, but the movement only increased the pain in his face. Instead he whimpered and tried to hold as still as he could. The agony worsened and he couldn't breathe; dimly he was aware that water was spraying in from the tears along the wall, he was getting drenched with saltwater which only made things worse on his wounds. But he couldn't bring himself to move. Already he could feel his life ebbing away as the laceration bled thick warm liquid down his side to mix with the freezing water already lapping at his hips.

His last thoughts before he lost consciousness was the vague awareness that he really was going to die at sea. He was going to make his family _so_ very proud.


End file.
